Silver Prophecies
by Boringlittlehumanbrains
Summary: I was so bored; I wanted to scream at the ceiling. Why did everyone, including me, have to endure another stupid feast to honor the brainless crown prince? 'Because you are a diplomat's daughter that's why' I tell myself. My father had, just two weeks ago, been appointed to the prestigious position of high ambassador. Rating may or may not change.
1. Chapter 1

**So, I got so much good feedback on the other story, I decided to publish this one as well. And I promise that this one is going to be a multiple chapter one. Enjoy :)**

I was so bored; I wanted to scream at the ceiling. Why did everyone, including me, have to endure another stupid feast to honor the brainless crown prince? 'Because you are a diplomat's daughter that's why' I tell myself. My father had, just two weeks ago, been appointed to the prestigious position of high ambassador. Along with a beautiful new suite of apartments for my parents, and a separate one for myself, we had also been afforded free reign of the palace. On the first day, after being surrounded by people for hours, I wandered off in search of a place to be completely alone.

My mind stopped wandering, and I glanced toward the dais, where the royal family (including the incredibly moronic prince Thor) was seated. At that very moment, he was trying his very best to inhale as much food as he could before he choked to death. His father, Odin, looked on in approval, heaving a great laugh and pounding the table as his son continued to gorge himself. The queen sat aloof, ignoring the antics of her husband and son. A fourth chair remained vacant. I frowned at it in confusion. Wasn't there supposed to be another son? I had been avoiding people for the past weeks and had not formally met the royal family. Everyone knew that there were four members of the family: the king, the queen and the firstborn I had at least seen before, but the second son was more of an abstract concept, as I had never so much as seen him across a crowded room.

I had never really understood the tradition of handing the throne to the first born son, especially when they seemed to be the least-suited to rule. Rolling my eyes at the prince's continued antics, I surveyed the enormous ballroom. Great trestle tables ran the length of the floor and all around them were the courtiers and dignitaries that lived in and around the palace. The feast portion of the celebration was coming to an end as many guests pushed their chairs back from the table and sighed contentedly. The tables disappeared in a flash and an orchestra began to play the sweet strains of a waltz. I retired to the side wall, alone even in the middle of a crowd.

"Such is the life of a wallflower." I muttered to myself, examining my feet, which were clad in beautiful dark green slippers that exactly matched the color of my dress. I had been fitted for an entire new wardrobe almost as soon as I arrived at the palace. Since green was the traditional color of my family, almost all of my new clothing was a variation of the color, and I was beginning to get a bit sick of it. I wasn't even allowed to unpack most of my old clothing. It all sat in trunks at the back of the boudoir that attached to my new bedroom.

The under-tunic that showed through a split up one leg was a slightly lighter shade of green with silver thread etching twisted tribal designs around the bottom hem and about the sleeves. Silver thread chased up the front of the over-dress and curls around the neckline, bunching into an intricate knot at the lowest point sitting over the cleft of my breasts. I wore slender silver chains with emerald drops at the ends hooked into my ears. My traditional piercings had been removed for the celebration. A necklace of braided silver with another emerald the size of a pigeons' egg sat at the hollow of my throat.

The only other piece of jewelry that I wore was a ring in the shape of a tiny silver snake. Its' body wrapped three times around my finger and then bit its' tail, completing the circlet. Its' eye is also a sparkling emerald. This was the one piece of jewelry that the maids, bustling about getting me ready for the banquet a few hours ago, had not been able to persuade me to leave behind in my sumptuous rooms. The charm was a familiar friend and I was nervous enough without intentionally leaving it behind. Even with the comforting weight of the ring, I felt woefully underdressed and plain standing next to the other ladies of the court. Gorgeous silks and satins draped tall, willowy bodies. Bright blues, yellows, reds and pinks blend with lighter oranges, peaches, purples and golds. Jewels encrusted in gold drip from every neck and wrist; rings flash and sparkle brilliantly on at least two fingers of every hand.

'Have these people never heard of silver?' I thought.

The dazzling ladies spun and bowed like breeze kissed flowers, drifting gracefully across the dance floor on the arms of their gallant partners. I sighed quietly and resigned myself to another fascinating evening of watching from the sidelines as everyone around me laughed, danced and fell in love. After about a half an hour, some entertainers replaced the dancers in the middle of the floor. A juggler and some tumblers tried to catch my interest and actually succeeded for a while, until they traded places with a soprano. My pallor of boredom had been eased slightly by the acrobats but the soprano who followed was rather unfortunate. Her voice was indeed good, but untempered by years or practice and she had a tendency to squeak on the highest notes. I slowly moved toward a side door, making sure that no one was paying attention before sliding carefully out and sprinting fleet footed down the long, gilded hallway.

The marble floors were smooth beneath my slippered feet and I made almost no sound as I sped to my sanctuary. The door to the library opened and closed silently and I paused briefly just inside, breathing the smell of the old books. There are so many of them, rows and rows of shelves stacked so high that each one has a ladder on tiny wheels to give a reader access to every book on the shelves. I started to relax because nothing can hurt me here. This was my haven, my favorite place. I smiled widely and set off down an aisle, looking for my favorite corner.

Hidden at the very back of the library, the tiny nook was tucked away and so small that most people overlook it, which suited my purposes nicely. I curled up on the padded bench and picked up the book that I had left there before leaving to get dressed for the party. The light was good, but not so bright that I could not pick out the stars that sprinkle the night sky. I spent a few minutes staring up at them, identifying different constellations and planets, but the book that I held was calling to me so I pulled my skirt down over my feet and began to read. The music from the ballroom floated through the library very softly and unconsciously, I swayed gently in time as I lost myself in tales of heroic deeds and far off lands.

**Updates theoretically every Saturday (or sometime during the weekend)**

**Still learning the ins and outs of this infernal website... Grrr.**

**My undying thanks to Queen Serenity and Angel897 for their reviews and advice on how to use the website properly.**

**And bows of respect to Adrillian1497, Pippinsheehan, StrongerThanMost, and HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEY (I counted the E's to make sure I got it right) for their prompt following of a rookie writer.**


	2. Chapter 2

A piece of hair worked its' way loose from the upswept pile of curls that sat on my head and I twisted it around my finger as I read. I was so absorbed in the book that I barely noticed when a shadow fell across the page, so I jumped when a silky voice asked, "Dressed for the ball, yet cloistered in a library. What are you doing in here if I may ask?" I let go of the book in surprise, but a long, slender hand stretched out and caught it before it could touch the floor. I peered down at the person belonging to the voice. A dark head of hair was all I could see at the moment because he was bent low, looking at the title of my book. A deep, liquid chuckle resonated from the man as he stood from his crouch. I was forced to crane my neck back to see his face. He towered over me, still holding onto my book.

"Don't all young ladies love parties and dancing?"

"Not all of us prefer the crush of the ballroom, and I never said I didn't like to dance, my lord." Since I didn't recognize the man, but I decided to err on the side of caution with the honorific. Some men got violent with even the slightest provocation, and even though he was smiling, there was no telling what the handsome stranger would be doing in the next second.

"Hmm," he seemed to consider for a moment, "So you retreat to the library and dive into a faerie tale book instead of looking for your Prince Charming? Not many women would pass up the chance to meet the crown prince. You are a rare breed girl."

Not quite sure if that was a compliment or a jibe, I replied testily, "Thank you my lord."

"Is hiding yourself away in the library a habit of yours or are you merely hiding from an overzealous suitor?"

I laughed wryly and turned my head to stare out of the window, "Pfft. Overzealous suitor? Me? You flatter me overmuch my lord." I could see him turning the first few pages in the reflection of the window glass. He weighed it in his hands and I could feel him staring at the back of my head.

"If I may be so bold, which is your favorite tale in this particular book?" he asks.

"That is an easy answer. My favorite is the tale of the Midgard serpent." I said, turning back just in time to catch the sour look that crossed his face. "Do you not favor it?" He didn't answer and I continued, qualifying my choice. "Mostly I enjoy it because it is such a pack of lies."

His eyes flew to my face, "A pack of lies?"

"Yep. I mean, do you actually think that the crown prince would think to trick the serpent instead of just beating it into submission? He would sooner crush things that challenge him. Sometimes I think that he shies away from thinking in complete sentences, or in any work that is more than two syllables."

He stared at me utterly flabbergasted, and I realized what I had just said. "I mean…"

He interrupted me before I can come up with a passable reason why I had just insulted the heir to the throne. "You may be the first person in the whole palace who agrees with my opinion of the prince." He grinned widely and my heart began to calm back down to normal.

"Don't tell?" I pleaded quietly.

"It will be our little secret," he said, winking. I swung my legs down from the bench and he sat down beside me, insinuating himself into the free corner. "It seems to me that we have begun our acquaintance wrong way around, with our secrets before we even know each other's names. I am Lucas."

"I am Ronan," I replied, and then added, "my lord." I studied his face as he smiled slightly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. His dark hair was caught behind his head in a low ponytail, curling at the ends. His face is sharper and more pointed than the normal square jawed shapes that were prevalent in the castle. A long, aquiline nose descended between sparkling, intelligent green eyes to a lopsided mouth. His top lip is a little thin, but the bottom one is full and slightly pouty. He is clean shaven and pale, as if he spends most of his time inside.

"Do you live in the palace? I don't believe we have had the pleasure of meeting before." I inquired carefully. "You look familiar but I cannot place you."

"I do indeed live in the palace, but I do not often have the time to venture into the furthest reaches of the library. Unfortunately, I am forced to spend most of my time in the company of the crown prince." He made a fearsome face and I giggled softly, covering my mouth with a swift hand as he whipped his eyes to my face and seems to search for something written there.

"It can't be," he breathed so quietly that I am not even sure if he has actually spoken.

"Hmm?"

"Just a secret. I have many of them, you know," he broke off abruptly, staring off into the darkness.

"We all have our secrets," I observed as I got up to leave. He didn't seem to notice, and I walked away, contemplating our conversation. That man, Lucas, must have been some kind of lord, but I felt we had had something in common. Speech flowed smoothly between us and we seemed to spark ideas and humor off of one another as easy as breathing.

I strolled leisurely through the library, my feet carrying me to another alcove I had only found the day before. It contained a pair of double glass doors that opened soundlessly onto a beautiful marble patio. Vines covered in dark purple and blue flowers curled up and around the carved railing. Moving to the edge, I rested my hands on the wide surface and sighed deeply. I traced a simple design on the stone with the tip of a finger and applied a tiny bit of the power that roiled at the base of my skull. A plaintive violin melody sprang from the air around me, created from pure magic and my imagination. I hummed along with the music and began to invent a harmony, spinning the notes that sprung from my mouth around the magical ones. I lost myself in the simple joy of creation and closed my eyes, finally feeling like myself once more.


	3. Chapter 3

'Lucas' shook his head sharply, coming out of his reverie. When had the girl, Ronan, left? What an odd name for a girl anyway. And where had she gone? He glanced around swiftly to see if she had just moved away to find another book But no, she was nowhere in sight.

"Hmm, if I was a girl who feels most at home in a library, where would I go?" he said to himself. He rose sinuously from the bench and prowled down an aisle, checking each subsequent row of books for the flash of her green dress. Suddenly, his sharp ears caught a soft strain of music off to his right. He followed the sounds, pausing every so often to listen before turning a corner. Finally, he found her on a balcony, surrounded by beautiful blooms and swaying gently to music that emanated from nowhere and everywhere at once. She had released her riotous curls from the elaborate clips and they now flowed down her back, the raven locks catching and holding the moonlight. He leaned against the doorway, folding his arms over his chest, needing to learn more about this strange Ronan, who more and more seemed to fit the prophesy that he had been given this morning.

"Raven tresses and changing eyes. A wounded within and without but possessing a spark alike to your own. A heart that will accept you if you allow it." The music swelled and seemed to caress him as Ronan, with eyes tightly closed, began to turn in slow circles, arms outstretched as if to hold an invisible partner. Her head tilted to the side as she drifted gracefully over the stones. The tune pulled him in and brought him to stand in front of her. He took ahold of her waist and one small hand, stepping seamlessly into her dance. Her eyes stayed closed, but her head drooped forward to lean against him. It hit him then how truly tiny she was. Her head fell short of his shoulders so her gentle breaths warmed his chest as they continued to dance. A feeling of peace and comfort washed over him and he almost staggered from the strength of emotions that he had not felt in many years. He gazed down at the girl in his arms and the utter rightness of how she felt slammed through his chest. He brushed a gentle kiss across her hair before he realized.

"What are you doing? He berated himself, "You cannot have feelings for this girl. The prophesy was only the ramblings of a crazed old woman. Besides, if she knew what you were, she would run screaming in terror." He jerked to a halt, causing Ronan's eyes to fly open in confusion.

What is wrong, my lord?" she asked. Instead of replying, 'Lucas' released her hand, pushing her away from him roughly, before turning on his heel and striding off the balcony, deep into the labyrinth of the library. Cursing himself mentally, he fled- no, not fled, he would not flee from a girl- retreated- only marginally better- swiftly to his chambers, slamming the door in a fit of pique.

"Oracle!" he howled at the ceiling, "Show yourself!" A hunched old woman stepped into the room from nowhere. Her long silver hair was woven in intricate pattern and twisted about her head. Her robes trailed to the ground, forming a silken puddle of crimson at her feet. Leaning on her carved staff, she peered at his face.

"You have met the girl, I see."

He whirled on the woman, "So that was her." He dragged a hand through his thick hair and turned to stare out a window.

"What are you doing pacing in here, stupid boy? Are you trying to drive her away before she even gets to know you?" She whacked the back of his head with the blunted tip of her staff. She hadn't hit him hard, but it was no love tap either.

"Ow! How dare you strike me?" He loomed over the oracle.

"How dare you speak to me like that?" She responded with just as much, if not more vitriol than he had spouted at her seconds before.

"I am a prince. It is my right." He sucked in a deep breath and gritted his teeth, "And you will treat me with the respect due my station, even if nobody else does."

The old woman, Tala, shuffled over and poked him with her staff again, more gently this time, "Don't start that again, child. Now show me your newest trick."

It was an old routine of theirs- one that they had fallen into a hundred thousand times, back when she was his teacher. He would come to her tower when he couldn't sleep, when he was being picked on yet again, when he just felt sad for no reason and just curl up in the old armchair across from the rocking chair that she habitually occupied. She would ask him to show her the latest trick that he had been working on, allowing him to forget the worries of the moment and become absorbed in his latest conjuring. However, on this particular day, he was in no mood to be calmed by an old routine.

"Just leave. I need to think." He sank down onto a chair and dropped his head into his hands, feeling a headache coming on. Tala bowed and disappeared from the room, leaving no trace that she had ever been there.

**So sorry that this chapter is so late. It would have been out last week, but my muse has been intoxicated since Christmas Eve Day because family came to visit and help us move. Note to anyone who cares: Don't ****ever****ever****EVER**** move cross country on a holiday weekend. Especially not Christmas. The wizards that hook up the magical internet are all on vacation time. **

**But everything is worked out now and I already started on the next part which WILL be out on time. **

**As always, read and enjoy. Reviews are greatly appreciated and do wonders for my self esteem. :)**


	4. Chapter 4

"Little brother! You arrive late this morning." A booming voice greeted his emergence onto the practice field the next day. Loki rolled his bloodshot eyes and glared at Thor.

"Have you no respect for my condition?" He responded acidly. After dismissing Tala the night before, he had proceeded to drink himself into a stupor, resulting in this morning's haggard appearance. Dark circles were inked below each eye and his normally pale skin was even paler, allowing light blue veins to stand out on his forearms and neck.

"What new marvel is this? Has the trickster been taken in by one of his own tricks? Don't think I have forgotten that particular prank brother." Thor was referencing an ingenious idea of some two weeks before when Loki had enchanted a tankard of mead to fully intoxicate the big oaf in about four sips. Of course, Thor had swilled down the entire measure and promptly passed out under the table, snoring loud enough to cause the marble floor to rumble ominously.

Loki groaned and waved a tired hand in Thor's general direction. "Can you not see that I am not in the mood for your brand of humor?" He sighed and turned to his daily routine of stretching his aching limbs. Fandral approached him from the side, peering at his face intently for a few seconds before letting loose a shout of laughter that had Loki wincing in pain as the sharp noise stabbed through his temples.

"I know what ails the Mischievous One, and it is not excess of drink as he would have us believe. If that was his only problem, would he not have dispelled the condition before meeting us?"

Thor looked at Fandral blankly as Hogun and Volstagg approached and chose their weapons for the day.

"Why, the self-proclaimed 'unlovable one' has fallen in love of course! Only one thing could put a look that miserable on his face." Fandral, still chuckling, pointed the tip of his rapier toward Loki, who scowled thunderously back at him.

Thor glanced to his brother. "Is this true? Has a maiden truly captured the eye of my brother?" He joined Fandral in his mirth, slapping Loki on the back and knocking him over. A knife came whizzing through the air and embedded itself in the wood paneling of the wall, just above Fandrals' head.

"Are we ever going to practice today or are you just going to flex and prattle like old women?"

"Bold Sif! Welcome!" Thor boomed a greeting and waved his hand in the air, beckoning her over.

"Why does everyone feel compelled to bellow this morning? My head would hurt less if I were in a field full of cows." Loki groaned under his breath.

"Shall I prepare my proven hang-over cure for you then?" Fandral asked. Loki grunted noncommittally, closed his eyes and rubbed his temple with a hand. Fandral gestured to Volstagg who tossed him a shield. Carefully creeping up behind Loki, he raised the basket hilt of his rapier over his head and brought it down with a resounding clang on the center boss of the shield.

Loki's head shrieked in protest and he sprang up in an indignant and fuming temper. Whirling on Fandral, he twisted his fingers in a complicated pattern and the fur on Fandral's collar came alive, snapping at his nose and moustache with magical teeth and scratching at his neck with tiny claws.

Fandral yelped and tugged at the writhing thing while Thor and Volstagg's laughter echoed around the training ring. Sif snickered under her breath and even dour Hogun cracked a small smile as the infectious laughter caught him up in its grip. Loki, smirking in spite of his pounding head, disappeared around the back of a rack of weapons and made himself invisible for the return trip to his rooms.

**So sorry that this one is short- working out schedules with two new jobs is no cakewalk. **

**Next one will be longer, I promise.**


	5. Chapter 5

My relaxing morning spent lazing around in bed was interrupted abruptly by my new maid, Khel, pounding unceremoniously on the door to my bedroom.

"My lady! Your father has requested your presence in his chambers! Quickly! Get up!"

Not wanting to get up, I slung an arm over my eyes and made exaggerated snoring noises. She slammed the door open and hustled to the side of the bed. She shook my shoulder gently and I groaned in response, peering myopically up at her over my arm.

"What could he possibly want this early in the morning?"

"I am sure I have no idea, my lady." Khel turned away a little too quickly and I became immediately suspicious.

"Khel, my name is Ronan, not 'my lady.' And you know more than you are telling. I have been here only a month or so and I already know that you know everything that goes on in this palace. So spill. Please?" I injected a slightly cajoling tone into my voice.

"Oh, alright. But this is only a rumor." She sat on the edge of my bed and handed me an alabaster backed brush so I could get the sleep-tangles out of my curly hair. Arranging her skirt, she took a deep breath and began.

"Well, apparently after the party last night, Odin Allfather called your father to his personal chambers, and a little while later, both princes were called there as well. One of my fellow maids just happened to be cleaning nearby and heard them inside. She couldn't hear exactly what was said, but she said there was a lot of shouting going on after the princes arrived. Then the Allfather spoke low and fierce for a few minutes and Prince Thor gave a great shout of laughter. Then she had to move further away because they started to move towards the door. What shall we make of that, I wonder."

"I am sure I have no idea what it could mean. Possibly it was just a friendly conversation about the best way to hunt bilgesnipe. We shall see soon enough."

I rolled out of bed and headed into the bathing room while Khel ventured into the enormous closet to select my clothing for the day.

"What do you think, my la-," I coughed sharply, "I mean, Ronan."

"I really haven't got a chance to look at my new clothes. How about something purple? It feels like a purple kind of day don't you think?"

"If you say so." Khel replied, giggling. "There is a rather lovely dusky purple tunic here with dark blue flowers around the hem. They are quite pretty and they have crimson centers. I think you will like them. You could wear it with black leggings and boots."

"That sounds lovely. Thank you! What would I do without you Khel?" I called.

"Probably embarrass yourself immensely." She shot back at me and I grinned widely. She had a point. I was completely useless at dressing myself, always seeming to clash horribly even when I tried my hardest to match. I shucked my sleeping shirt and walked into the pool of warm, pine scented water in the middle of the floor. After ducking my head under to wet my hair, I took a deep breath, basking in the scents of home. Fresh pine and mint from the soap mixed together in the air as I scrubbed the sleep from my body and face. I preferred these lighter fragrances to the heavy perfumes that the various ladies of the court wore. They mixed and created a heavy miasma that stagnated in the nose and made me sick.

As I was finishing, Khel brought in a fluffy white towel and left it on a low stool. I thanked her and sank under the water again to rinse the soap away before turning to the task of washing my thick, curly hair. My hair had always been particularly difficult to take care of as it possessed an alarming tendency to frizz and tangle, but when I got here, I had discovered that Khel had similar problems with her hair. She lent me some of her shampoo for a while until I could get my hands on some of my own and the frizz had been tamed into something much more manageable.

After rinsing the soap from my locks, I wrapped myself in the towel and padded into the bedroom to look at the clothes Khel had set out. The tunic's deep purple was mixed with some grey and red, making it the color of late sunset, or twilight just after the sun has sunk over the horizon. The leggings were soft and comfortable, and the boots were made of exquisitely tooled leather. They had sliver buckles and studs down the sides, and the soles were thin enough that they didn't hinder the movement of my feet at all.

The beautiful clothing slipped smoothly over my skin, fitting comfortably and I sat down on the end of my bed to dry my hair. Unfortunately, Khel came back into the room at that moment to hustle me along, so I just grabbed a leather thong with silver beads on the ends, braiding it into my hair and tying it at the bottom. Flipping the braid back over my shoulder, I slipped the snake ring onto my finger and settled the rest of my traditional jewelry in their places. A thick silver bangle hung heavily from my left wrist and a flat collar of silver with an open knot lay along my collar bones and settled just below the hollow of my throat. The final pieces were a small silver cuff that fitted over the top of my right ear and matching silver hoops. I squared my shoulders and strode from the room, walking quickly down the hallway and around the corner to my father's chambers.

Taking a deep steadying breath, I knocked twice on the imposing door and waited with my hands folded behind my back.

"Enter," my father called from inside, so I pushed open the door and froze in my tracks. Father was sitting at the table with Odin, the Allfather himself. My eyes flew to my father in confusion, but he beckoned me forward into the room, extending his hand to me. I walked over and took it in greeting, then moved to stand behind his chair, watching the Allfather with trepidation.

"Good morning, Ronan." Odin's voice was low but cordial and he smiled widely at me.

"Good morning, my lord." Better safe than sorry.

"Allfather is fine, my dear, considering your position." He stood from his seat, but turned back to my father. "I leave you to talk to your lovely daughter, and I hope to see you both at dinner this evening."

My father rose as well, "We will indeed join you for dinner, Allfather. We are looking forward to it." He bowed slightly and Odin left the room. As the door closed behind him, Father motioned to more comfortable chairs positioned around an empty fireplace and moved to sit in one himself. I took the other and crossed my legs at the knee.

"So father," I asked, "What is on your mind?"

He shifted in his seat for a moment and then said, "Ronan, one of the important things about being an ambassador's daughter is that you are expected to be kind and gracious to all of the men that we meet. However, this is impossible for you to do if you are not present at the functions that we must attend. In light of this, I cannot help but ask where you ran off to last night. You were there for barely an hour after dinner and then disappeared for the rest of the night."

"It was too loud in the hall, Father. I had a rather nasty headache." 'Whose name was pompous, obtuse Prince Thor.' I thought to myself. Added to the boorish prince the frivolous dignitaries and members of the court wearing the latest ridiculous fashions and strutting around the room like overstuffed peacocks and it was a miracle that my head had not exploded from irritation.

I really hated to disappoint my father, but I had still not adjusted to palace living. One was expected to be proper every second of every day and I missed the relaxed formalities and easy friendship that we had with our servants at home. The first time that Khel called me 'my lady,' I had looked around for another woman in the room, not realizing that she meant me. I missed the blue skies, tall trees and sunny plains of home too. Being inside all the time was driving me slowly insane. I needed a good long run on my horse, Mairg, whom I missed above all else, but he was taking a more circuitous trip than we had and so wouldn't be arriving for another few days. He was a classic example of trouble by name and by nature. Jet black and enormous, he styled himself as my protector, jealously seeking my attention whenever I was near the stables and baring his teeth at anyone who dared to approach 'his person.'

My father ran a hand through his grey hair and cleared his throat. "Odin and I had a conversation about you last night. Specifically, we discussed your future here in the palace."

"Am I to be made a scullery maid then? Am I not pretty enough for the parties?" I joked, even though truth be told, I would be far more comfortable and content working in the kitchens than dancing in the ballroom.

"Heavens, no. This is truly fortunate and momentous news. As you know, Odin has two sons that are in line for ascension to the throne. However, another important part of their station is the obligation to marry well."

My stomach started to roil in apprehension. I had a vague idea of where this conversation was going, but I desperately hoped that if I didn't actually think about the potential direction, it wouldn't actually go there. I mentally crossed all my fingers and pleaded silently with my father to not say the words.

My father reached out to take my hands and then said very seriously, "Daughter, I have promised your hand in marriage to a prince of Asgard."

"Bugger."

**As promised, a longer chapter! And the writing gods have seen fit to actually gift me with a plot line so the whole thing won't be such seat-of-the-pants writing.**

**Reviews are appreciated and thank you to all the lovely people who have already written them. **


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